


Not While I'm Around

by flannelfeelings



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Amy Santiago Loves Jake Peralta, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Early Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Jake Peralta Loves Amy Santiago, Love, Season 3, Unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26031709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flannelfeelings/pseuds/flannelfeelings
Summary: The night Amy Santiago realized that she was no longer alone in this frightening world.
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 16
Kudos: 145





	Not While I'm Around

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr:   
> Anonymous said:  
> hi!! idk if you’re still taking fic requests, but I’d love to read your take on early-relationship jake & amy having their first convo about their relationship being serious/that they both are in it for the long haul. or even one or both of them thinking about that or realizing it themselves! your writing is so fantastic and I absolutely love all your fics, every time I see you’ve posted it’s exciting! thank you so much for bringing some peraltiago joy to all of us mid-pandemic 😊
> 
> Hi anon! Thank you so much for sending this in, sorry it took me so long! Idk if this is quite what you were looking for, but this is where I was inspired to go.
> 
> I hope you enjoy and please let me know your thoughts!

It started out with little things.

Jake was a surprisingly tender, affectionate boyfriend. For someone who spent most of his time pranking others and fighting off real feelings with goofiness, he fell into a rhythm of compassion that Amy had never experienced from a boyfriend before. For the first few months of their relationship, though he could never quite find the words, he showed her he loved her every day. And Amy did her best to return the favor.

Neither of them were sure exactly where they’d end up, but they both enjoyed the ride.

It started out small. ‘ _I love you’s_ ’ tossed around casually after their first one on the cruise. Extra long hugs before a shift, softer, more tender kisses before bed. A strange look in Jake’s eyes sometimes when he’d stare at her for a little longer than necessary; a look that if Amy didn’t know better, she’d say was that of a man completely in awe of the woman before him.

But nothing brought their budding seriousness to a boil like Thursday, November 16th.

Amy started off her morning decently cheerful. Jake had been at work overnight, but they both had tomorrow off so he’d be sleeping over at her place tonight. She was going into work today and he would probably be off halfway through her shift, and they planned to meet back at her place around 7:45. They planned to order Thai food, watch scary movies, and attempt to bake some homemade chocolate chip cookies, Jake’s favorite.

Jake was actually already gone by the time she reached the precinct, and he’d sent her a text that read: **cant wait 2 see u tonight love u <3\. **

Even with Teddy, she’d never looked forward to going home so much. It was starting to become a familiar feeling though, as she often had Jake’s smile to greet her at the end of a long day.

That smile carried her through her shift, and by the time the clock reached 6:30, about an hour before she was set to be off, she was still eager and giddy. Her phone rang with a call from her mom, which surprised her, but she answered it pleasantly.

“Hey mom. What’s up?”

“Are you sitting down _mija_?” her mother’s voice was serious and grave, it gave Amy pause.

“Why?” she asked, worry tinting her voice, “Is everything okay?”

“Debbie Stole called me today.” Camilla explained cautiously, “Edgar passed away last night.”

Amy felt like her heart had been wrenched out of her chest. She swallowed hard, eyes going wide as she glanced around the bustling bullpen. Mouth barely working, she asked, “Mr. Stole is dead?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry. He was sick with liver disease and I guess it finally got him.”

“Why-why didn’t they call me?” Amy demanded.

Edgar Stole had been her first mentor back in high school. Those years were always difficult for Amy; she didn’t have many friends, her family was so competitive she couldn't talk to them about anything, but her sophomore year English teacher was always there. He helped her apply to colleges, he advised her on interviews and her career path long after she graduated, and he’d become a dear friend in her adult life.

They hadn’t seen each other in a few years...Amy was ashamed to admit she was so busy with work and finding herself in Brooklyn that most of the people back home were too difficult to keep up with. But they always sent each other Christmas cards.

She couldn’t believe she wouldn’t be getting a card from him this year. And where would she send hers?

“He didn’t want to tell anyone. There is going to be a service next week.” Camilla replied, “Debbie wanted me to tell you that he spoke of you often, and wanted her to let you know that he was proud of you. You grew up to be just the person he always expected.”

Amy could hardly comprehend her mother’s words. It was too much, too sudden, too painful. She felt so guilty; she hadn’t made the effort to drive out there and visit him in a few years, and now he was dead, and she didn’t even get to say goodbye.

“I have to go, Mom.” she said quickly, and disconnected before Camilla could reply.

“Detective Santiago?” Amy startled a bit, turning to see Holt standing behind her with concern creasing his brow, “Is everything alright?”

“Um yes sir.” Amy lied, nodding stiffly as she stared up at her new mentor, whom she’d been so obsessed with she’d neglected the person who helped her become who she was today, “I uh- I need to leave though. All of my paperwork is done. I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure nothing is wrong?” Holt asked, and the worry in his tone was too much to bear.

“Yes I’m sorry I- I have to go.” She grabbed her bag off the back of her chair and hastily made for the elevator. She could feel his gaze on her until the doors closed, but she didn’t care. She’d deal with Holt later.

Should she call Debbie? What would she even say? _Sorry I was a terrible friend to your husband and now he’s dead? Sorry I was too selfish and focused on my own life to reach out and even realize he was dying?_

Amy didn’t notice that she was crying until she slammed her apartment door behind her. Her face was wet with tears, nose burning from wiping at it with her sleeve, vision blurred as she stumbled into the apartment toward the couch. She passed her kitchen, which had many years of Edgar’s Christmas cards organized in a drawer.

Her knees hit the hardwood floor, and she leaned up against the couch, openly sobbing now. Her weeping and fuzzy vision overwhelmed her and she could no longer focus on anything else.

* * *

“Ames? You home? Why is this unlocked?”

Amy pulled her face out of the couch cushion, wiping frantically at her eyes. A quick glance at her watch told her she’d been laying there sobbing for nearly an hour, and the sound of her front door opening and Jake’s voice calling out from the other side of the apartment got her attention.

She immediately sat up straight and wiped her face dry with her sleeves, grateful she had opted out of makeup today, or else it’d be smeared. Amy didn’t want him to see her like this; they hadn’t even been dating a year. This was too serious, too much. He didn’t need this pressure or this burden.

“Amy?” Jake demanded as he rounded the corner, and stopped in his tracks, frowning as he took in the sight of her curled up beside the couch, “Why is your front door unlocked? What are you doing on the floor?”

He wore a pair of black basketball shorts and a navy blue hoodie, his typical overnight get up. His drawstring backpack was slung lazily over his shoulder, and in one hand he carried a grocery bag, probably full of cookie ingredients. His damp hair was freshly washed, it always looked much curlier and springier when it was wet from a shower.

“I uh...must’ve forgotten to lock it.” she said stupidly, climbing to her feet and forcing a fake smile on her face, “Long day.”

Jake’s worried frown didn’t abate, though it seemed like he didn’t want to push her, “Okay...that’s not like you, Ames. Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Totally.” She nodded, “Been looking forward to this all day babe.”

Jake glanced behind him at the now closed and locked front door, then back to her, “Me too.” he scratched his neck with his free hand and said, “I don’t wanna like...lecture you or anything, I know you can handle yourself. But that kinda worries me.” he admitted, “Gotta lock that thing okay? We don’t live in a great city.”

This time the smile on her face was genuine, and she nodded. Another thing she hadn’t expected when she started dating Jake was how protective he could get. Even though he was fully aware she was a seasoned detective and would have no trouble disarming and taking down any intruder, he wasn’t shy about confessing that he wanted to keep her safe. She didn’t mind it, she felt the same way about him.

“Won’t happen again.” She assured him, and glanced down at her pantsuit, “Um...I just need to change.” she turned for the bedroom and heard Jake’s footsteps heading for the kitchen. Amy let out a sigh of relief; she needed just one more moment to collect herself.

She changed quickly into a pair of sweats and one of Jake’s _Star Wars_ t-shirts he’d left here. After throwing her hair in a messy bun, she paused in front of the mirror. Amy could barely look at herself; the guilt of missing out of Edgar’s last few years was too overwhelming.

Amy headed back out into the apartment, joining Jake in the kitchen, where he was currently perusing a pad Thai menu and unpacking the groceries he’d brought.

“I’m gonna get the garlic shrimp.” he decided, glancing up to greet her as she entered and sat heavily at the kitchen table, “Think you can forgive me for my breath?”

Amy let out a small laugh, “Only if you promise to floss tonight.”

“Maybe I’ll get the ribs instead…” he looked back at the menu, and she chuckled again.

“How was your day?” Jake asked as he finished setting the cookie ingredients in Amy’s pantry and joined her at the table. She couldn’t even focus on the fact that he seemed to suddenly know where everything went in her place; all she could think about was Mr. Stole.

“It was fine.” she answered shortly, “You?”

He shrugged, “Got our B&E perp, can’t be mad about that.”

Amy could feel Jake’s penetrative gaze staring her down, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. Maybe she should ask him to leave. How was she supposed to have a fun night with her boyfriend if she was busy grieving over her dead mentor?

“Amy?” Jake asked again, and she broke out of her trance to finally look at his face.

His eyes were hesitant, concerned. He wasn’t usually one to initiate the big conversations, Amy was better with articulating emotions. But she could see beneath the surface that he was worried. She wasn’t exactly acting normal.

“Is everything...okay?” he inquired tentatively, “Did I do something wrong?”

Amy’s heart broke just a little at that. Here he was, the sweetest, kindest and most selfless man on Earth feeling guilty because he thought _he’d_ done something wrong. When really all that had happened was Amy being a terrible friend and not giving her mentor a proper goodbye. Now she was making Jake suffer too. Was there no end to her vortex of selfishness?

“Something happened today.” She said carefully, deciding she at least owed him some semblance of an explanation for her weird behavior, so he didn’t get too offended, “I’m just...trying to...handle it.”

Normally, this would be where he made some stupid joke to lighten the mood, and segued into a lighter topic. This would be where he helped her forget all the bad.

But tonight was different, it seemed. Tonight, he could sense that something was deeply wrong.

“You can tell me, you know.” Jake’s voice was soft, earnest. He reached across the table and intertwined their hands. His fingers were calloused, warm and familiar around hers, “You can tell me anything.”

Amy swallowed hard, fighting against the burning tears that desperately wanted to sneak past her eyes. Since dating Jake she hadn’t cried in front of him; other than the occasional sniffle at a sweet commercial. She’d never broken down about something, or really let the emotions flow. She wasn’t sure if he’d still be here after she did.

“My uh...mom called.” She managed in a collected tone, looking at their intertwined fingers, “I had this English teacher when I was in high school, Edgar Stole. He really helped me and we actually became good friends after I graduated.” She blinked quickly, still trying to keep the tears at bay, “He passed away last night.”

“Oh, Ames.” Jake’s fingers tightened in hers, squeezing so hard she thought she heard a crunch, “I am so sorry.”

“I hadn’t made the drive up to see him in a while.” now there was a decided tremble in her voice, and her eyes felt liquidy, “I didn’t even know he was sick, he didn't tell anyone. And I’m so busy with cases I don’t even know if I can take time off for the funeral next week.” Amy wiped uselessly at her eyes, even though at this point her shoulders were heaving and the tears were flowing, “And I just feel like I let him down. I didn’t even get to say a real goodbye. I was so self-absorbed and I let him down.”

Amy figured Jake would probably slide his hand out from hers and make an uncomfortable declaration that he had to go. This was not part of the deal, she didn’t think. Jake was not one to get too real or sappy. He’d been working on it sure, but this was too much. This was deeply personal and vulnerable. She had no doubt they might see less and less of each other after this.

Jake did remove his hand from hers, and she covered her face with her palm to try and stifle her cries, waiting to hear the door open and close as he left. But then, she felt arms circling around her waist.

She glanced up to see him crouched beside the kitchen chair, his biceps tightening around her as he pulled her against him. She submitted to the embrace, allowing him to readjust their bodies so he was sitting in the chair and she was curled up on his lap, arms locked around his neck. His hand began to rub soothing circles on her back as she cried into the space between his neck and shoulder.

“You can’t beat yourself up because of this Ames.” Jake murmured quietly to her, stroking her hair and down her back as he allowed her to cry against his skin, “Even if you’d known he was sick, there was nothing you could’ve done. Besides, it sounds like he wanted it this way.”

“I owed him a real goodbye.” Amy wailed, “I never got to thank him for everything he did.”

“The life you’ve made for yourself was thanks enough I’m sure.” Jake said sternly, “Amy, you’re incredible. He should be very proud of himself if he helped in any way to make you the amazing woman you are today. And he knew that too. Anyone who spends half a second with you can see how accomplished and wonderful you are. There is not anything to be ashamed of or guilty about.”

Amy wiped at her face, though it was useless against the flowing tears. She didn’t know how she wasn’t completely out of liquid at this point. But they just kept coming. She couldn’t even imagine how unappealing she must look to Jake right now: red swollen eyes, snot dribbling out of her nose, hair a mess and latched onto him like a leech.

Though, his words did help soothe her anxious guilt-ridden thoughts a bit. Jake had a point, she supposed. She still wished she’d had the chance to give Edgar a real goodbye, but he’d told her numerous times throughout the years how proud he was of her. She kept him up to date on all of her accomplishments and promotions. She hoped it was enough. She hoped he knew how much he meant to her.

Jake’s thumb came up to gently wipe away the stream of tears on Amy’s cheek, and she looked down at him. His face was completely genuine; his big doe eyes full of compassion and concern for her. His broad lips set in a thin line, the dimple in his chin prominent with his tensed expression. His brows were pulled up worriedly, and his body was cradling hers defensively, as if he wanted to be the bridge between her and anything unpleasant.

“You’re still here.” Amy whispered, unsure of what else to say.

Jake’s forehead creased a bit, and he said, “Of course I’m still here.”

That was when it hit Amy. She wasn’t alone in this anymore. All those years of walking through the halls quietly, feeling like the judgments of her classmates could penetrate every wall she’d built with only Mr. Stole to make her feel okay. Feeling like her entire family was rooting against her. Feeling like her coworkers at other precincts were out to see her fail, or harass her. Coming home to an empty apartment, or one with the wrong man in it. Desperately looking for something or someone to make her feel like she belonged.

Now he was here. He was looking at her like he’d take a bullet just to see her smile, and for the first time in her life, she realized that she wasn’t alone anymore. She’d found it. She’d found something she’d been searching for and had long given up on without even realizing it.

Happiness, togetherness, trust and compassion; the feeling of truly being understood by another person.

He wasn’t going to run off at the first sign of trouble. He wasn’t going to abandon her because she was too much. He wasn’t going to get tired of her high-strung attitude or her lonely loser tendencies. He loved her, and everything that came along with that.

And it still hurt that she’d lost someone so dear to her today. But in that moment she knew she was going to be okay. Because this was for real. This was it. She didn’t have to face it alone anymore. Jake was here, holding her trembling body in his arms and doing everything in his power to shield her from pain.

“I love you.” Amy was too overcome to say anything else. The words were hushed and hurried, quiet but full of emotion. She grabbed his face and met his eyes seriously, her own blurry vision somewhat halting her study of his perfect features.

“I love you too.” He replied gently, “And we’re going to take a few days off next week to fly out for the funeral. You’re gonna say a proper goodbye. I will be by your side the whole time.”

Amy wrapped her arms tighter around Jake and buried her face in his neck again. The skin there was warm and smelled like his _Old Spice._ His arms were familiar and safe and everything good in the world. The painful pit in her chest was somewhat sealed with each word he spoke.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“I’m sorry you lost him.” Jake said sincerely, “But we are gonna get through it.”

 _We_.

That filled her with life in a way she’d never felt before. She would not face this by herself. 

“Okay.” Amy nodded slightly, “Okay, Jake.”

“In the meantime.” Jake’s arms came around her and scooped under her butt, pulling her body up against his as he stood. Amy let out an involuntary squeal at suddenly being picked up, and locked her arms even tighter around his neck, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“We’re gonna order some Thai, bake some cookies, and talk this out.” He walked her over to the counter and plopped her down beside the stove, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, “It’s gonna be okay, Ames.”

“I know.” she murmured, planting one more kiss to his perfect mouth.

The Thai was delicious, filling and spicy, just as she’d hoped. They ate in the living room and Amy told Jake about the time Edgar had taken her to lunch to celebrate her winning a scholarship. Afterward they’d gone back to his house and his wife Debbie had spent hours teaching Amy to sew. Her own mother had tried before but Amy never seemed to get it with Camilla yelling at her. But Debbie was calm, and kind and easy to learn from.

Amy sat on the counter again and watched Jake putter around the dimly lit kitchen, mixing cookie dough with a big wooden spoon and concentrating as he listened to her talk about the many interview practices she and Edgar had had. He quizzed her so well that she got a nearly perfect score on her SATs. It wasn’t as good as her brother David’s, so her parents couldn’t be bothered to celebrate. But Mr. Stole had been so excited for her, so proud and supportive.

Jake let her lick the batter off the spoon before he put the cookies in the oven.

They sat on the living room floor with their freshly baked cookies and two tall glasses of almond milk. The plate of cookies was between them, getting devoured at an unreasonably fast rate for only two people. Amy told Jake about the last time she’d seen Edgar in person, three years ago. He’d told her how proud he was of her for becoming an accomplished NYPD detective. Debbie had sewn her a quilt with her badge number beautifully patterned into the side.

The whole time Amy was talking, Jake listened. He laughed along with her at the funny memories, and focused intently on the more serious stories. He held her hand when she struggled to get through it, and he never left her side, letting her pour out the anecdotes and feelings and everything that was pent up and needed to come out. 

The night ended late, after midnight. Amy was curled up on her side in bed, Jake’s body pressed up against her. Her neck lay on his arm, his other hand wrapped around to rest gently on her abdomen as his nose nestled into her hair. It had been quiet for a little while, and his steadying breaths made her think he may be asleep.

However, into the quiet, Jake murmured, “Doin’ okay babe?”

“Yes.” Amy answered honestly.

As destroyed as she’d been a few hours earlier, Jake had managed to pick up the pieces and mold them into something that resembled a normal human. It still hurt, but it was nice to remember all the fond memories with Edgar and Debbie, and it felt good to share those private moments with someone she trusted.

“I’m right here if you need me.” he assured her, his tired voice soft and sweet.

“Hey, Jake?” Amy asked hesitantly.

“Yeah babe?”

“Will you do something for me?”

“Anything.” He answered so quickly it made her smile into the darkness.

“Can we...take a Christmas photo this year?” she inquired hopefully.

She hadn’t been planning to ask him, Jake was not a fan of being the subject of official photos, especially overly posed Christmas cards. But she wanted to have something to send to Debbie. Something to let the woman know she’d be okay, and to make sure Debbie knew Amy would not let the tradition fall to the wayside just because Mr. Stole wasn’t around anymore.

“Sure.” He sounded a little confused, but he agreed instantly, “Can I wear my Jordans?”

Amy giggled a bit, shaking her head, “You can wear whatever you want, Jake.”

“Don’t say that.” He warned teasingly, squeezing her a bit tighter.

“You’re right.” she amended, “You can wear whatever you want that _I_ approve first.”

“ _There’s_ the Amy Santiago I know.” Jake rolled her body around so she was facing him, and he kissed her forehead lovingly.

“I love you Jake.” Amy said earnestly, “I really, really love you.”

“I really really love you too.” He replied without missing a beat.

Amy snuggled up against his chest, sighing contentedly as she felt his hands gently stroking down her back. This was where she felt safest, she realized. In his arms. It didn’t matter where she was now, she always had a home in Jake’s embrace.

With that knowledge, she felt like she could handle anything.


End file.
